Laura Resnick - The Purifying Fire

The goblin scrambled to its feet and ran out the door. Chandra leaped up and followed it out of the room. The claw wound on her thigh stung sharply now, slowing her down. She tried not to think about what sort of horrible, festering infection she would get from a filthy goblin claw.

On the walkway outside, the goblin barreled into a startled woman, who screamed, but the collision didn’t stop the goblin’s flight. Other Keralians were running around and shouting, apparently looking for the goblin that had previously fled. Chandra followed this goblin down the walkway and toward the eastern terrace.

“Chandra!” a familiar voice cried.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Brannon running toward her, trying to catch up. “Stay back!” she ordered.

“I’ll help you!”

“Stay back!” Chandra doubted the goblin would have any scruples about killing a child.

“Brannon!” Brother Sergil shouted. “Stay with me!”

Chandra kept after the goblin.

Moving awkwardly, but quite fast nonetheless, the hideous assassin ran across the eastern terrace and straight for the stairway that led down to the herb garden below, from which it could escape over the red stone wall and into the dark night.

Chandra stretched out her arms, incredibly angry that this whole thing was happening. But anger was good for Chandra. Anger tapped that part of her that made the fire hot. Anger was the accelerant that took fire to inferno. That little beast was not getting away. Chandra raised a wall of fire around the fleeing goblin. He tried to run through it, but the wall grew thicker, moving with him as he ran, the circle shrinking in on him so that he couldn’t escape. Shrieking in panic now, the goblin hesitated, unsure if any direction were better than another. And the flames closed in on him, no matter which direction he turned as he sought to flee the fire’s destructive hunger.

Chandra’s magic was much stronger than whatever pathetic power this lumpish assassin could claim. She only needed another moment… And sure enough, the goblin screamed in pain as he was consumed by the fire, his thrashing discernible even through the shifting wall that closed on him like a molten iron maiden.

When the glowing remnants of the dying goblin vanished and all that remained was her own fire, Chandra let go of her spell. The flames calmed, no longer moving and shifting to imprison her enemy. With nothing fueling it, the fire she had called forth began to die. Within a few moments, it would disappear altogether.

Chandra was breathing heavily, but she was no longer angry. Only her throbbing leg served as a reminder of the rage that had beaten so furiously in her heart moments ago. She wiped perspiration from her face, smoothed away the lingering flames from her long red hair, and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Her head turned quickly when she heard footsteps approaching her, but she relaxed when she saw Luti, wearing a long, copper-colored robe. The mother mage’s white hair was loosely braided and hanging over one shoulder. Her dark eyes were alert as she gazed at Chandra’s dying fire on the eastern terrace.

“A goblin attack, they’re saying,” Luti said.

Chandra nodded. “Two of them.”

“Yes, I heard. Unfortunately, no one can find the other one. It must have got away.”

“Oh.” Chandra steadied her breathing and stood upright again. “I don’t think it’ll come back. It didn’t seem to be the persistent type.”

Luti noticed her bleeding leg. “You’re hurt.”

“Goblin claw.”

Luti grimaced. “We’ll have to clean it and keep an eye on it. Fortunately, it doesn’t look serious. But it’ll sting for a few days.”

“Chandra!” Brannon called, running toward her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him as he reached her side.

“Was that really a goblin, like they’re saying?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes.”

“I wish I had gotten a good look. I’ve never seen one!”

“They’re disgusting,” she said. “I can’t believe that female goblins actually… well… whatever they do.”

Luti asked her, “Did you know your attackers?”

“Know them?” Chandra blinked. “They were goblins.”

“You never saw them before?”

“You’ve seen one, you’ve seen ’em all, I guess.”

“I wish you’d take this seriously, Chandra,” Luti said. “But if you don’t think they were personal enemies of yours, and considering we haven’t had a goblin attack here in many years… I think we can guess who sent them.”

“Who sent…” Chandra realized what she meant. “You mean the oufes? They can sure carry a grudge for little guys.”

“Yes,” Luti said. “Even though it was, of course, only a small portion of the forest.”

“No, no,” Samir said, sitting in Mother Luti’s private workshop in the monastery five days later. “Not all the woodlanders. There’s some ill feeling about the fire among other factions, of course, but it’s only the oufes who are calling for your execution, Chandra.”

Samir, who looked more harassed than usual, had made the trip up the mountain that day to update Mother Luti and Chandra on the situation in the Great Western Wood.

“Only the oufes,” Chandra repeated, shifting her position to stretch her sore leg. The claw wound was healing well, but it still ached a little.

Luti said, “I suppose we can regard that as good news.”

“Actually, it’s one particular tribe of oufes.” Samir added wearily, “A big tribe.”

“Presumably the tribe in whose territory the fire occurred?” Luti said.

“Yes. I’ve tried reasoning with them. To explain that Chandra was fighting a ghost warden who had invaded our lands to spy on us.” Samir sighed. “But you know what oufes are like.”

Luti said, “Not amenable to reason.”

“Not really.” He shrugged and added, “To them, the forest is sacred. What happened in the woods that day has offended them deeply. Imagine what the Keralians would do if some came in and set your monastery on fire… Okay, bad example, but you get what I mean.

“They insist that nothing less than Chandra’s death will atone for the destruction of the forest. They’re calling for her assassination.”

“We supposed so,” Luti said, “since as of now there have been three energetic attempts on Chandra’s life.”

Samir said, “And since those attempts failed, this morning the tribe increased the size of the reward they’re offering for her death.”

“What sort of reward do oufes offer?” Chandra said with a frown. “Most of the killers I’ve met aren’t so keen on pussy willow trees.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know what they are offering,” Samir said. “But you’ve seen the caliber of assassin they are attracting.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Luti said dryly. “Even so, we must resolve this matter.”

Chandra said, “Maybe if I talked to them-”

“No,” said Luti and Samir in unison.

Chandra blinked.

Samir said more gently, “Oufes don’t leave the forest, so they certainly won’t come here. And if you entered the forest, my friend, there’s nothing I can say or do that would protect you from the tribe’s wrath. Not in their current frame of mind, anyway.”

“I can handle a little oufe wrath,” Chandra said dismissively.

“And burn down more of the forest?” Luti said. “No.”

“Mother Luti is right, Chandra,” said Samir. “While the tribe remains this angry, I feel sure that a confrontation would only worsen the situation. We don’t want that. Especially not at a time when cooperation between the monastery and the woodlanders is vital.”

“So what’s the solution?” Chandra said in frustration. “I just keep fighting off the assassins that come after me every day or two?”